What Rain Does to Dreams
by The Katenater
Summary: A single shot is fired on opening night outside the Moulin Rouge, and the lovers' lives would be changed forever unless they can figure out a way to escape the underworld and keep their love living until the end of time, come what may.
1. Rain on Opening Night

Chapter 1- Rain on Opening Night  
  
The show was over. After so many tiresome and frustrating rehearsals and an opening night filled with loud applause and crowds filing in and out, here and there, it was finally over. Though this thought accompanied with a sigh of a job well done and satisfaction filled the bohemian minded cast, the mind of the star of "Spectacular Spectacular" was filled with grief and fear. Fear that she had lost the man that she truly loved, and this time it was for good. She felt that it was completely her fault, and, if at all possible, she felt that she could even destroy one of her many diamonds in her bountiful collection through her anger. But that was not important at the moment- she had to find Christian. The show had finally ended after what seemed like a lifetime full of agony and pain, and she heard it when the curtain fell. It was a loud bang, the loudest she had ever heard followed by a cry of pain that was muffled from the rain that had pounded the ground and the red windmill at the time of these goings-on. She immediately rushed out of the dance hall transformed into a theater not noticing how fast she was actually running despite the weight of the heels that always hurt her feet so terribly. Somehow, deep down within her heart, she could hear Christian crying to her for help even though he had said that she meant nothing to him. She knew it wasn't true, and she knew that he did as well, but her heart told her to keep running, so that is what she did. It was almost 8:00, and darkness had fallen over Paris much earlier because of the storm. Satine kept running with tears streaming down her face as she did so. As she got closer, she could feel Christian's pain, and she knew she had to reach him. As she rounded the corner of the empty street next to the apartment where Christian stayed, she saw him. He was lying in the middle of the street allowing the rain to pour freely over his pale face, and she could barely see that his coat was covered in blood. He wasn't moving. She stopped dead in her tracks before she realized that there was still hope. At that precise moment, a tall and bulky figure appeared at the other side of the street, and Satine immediately knew who it was- Warner, the duke's manservant. That's when she ran to him even faster than before. She collapsed to her knees next to him, and quickly cradled him in her arms hoping to share every once of warmth that was left in her body to bring him back to life. She put her head to his chest and was relieved to feel a very faint heartbeat and a short and painful breath every few seconds. He was alive, but just barely. She quickly kissed his wet cheek and dragged him to the back street where they were sheltered from the rain and could not be seen. She tried to calm herself and slow her breathing so that beast of a man that was after her love couldn't hear her. She immediately took him in her arms and put her cheek against his forehead. She had never felt anyone or anything for that matter that was so cold. As Warner passed by, he looked around in a confused manner and ran back to the Moulin Rouge. After at least two minutes since he had gone inside and she was sure he was there to stay, she started to prepare herself for dragging Christian up to his garret that seemed so far away for once. Right as she started to lift him, a quiet sigh of pain escaped his chest, and his eyes fluttered open. She was the first thing he saw, and both of them had a dumbfounded stare on their rain and tear stained faces. "Oh, just tell me I'm dead, and get it bloody over with." His voice was slightly above a whisper. All she could do was laugh quietly and stroke his cheek. He hadn't had the time or the energy to recall the events of the night. "I love you, Christian," she whispered. "I know," he returned. He then gathered all of the energy that he could muster and leaned up to rest his head on her shoulder. "Let's get away from here." She very gently helped him to his feet and wrapped her arm around his shoulders so that he wouldn't fall as he slowly walked back up to the peaceful little room that he called his home.  
  
As soon as they reached his garret, she helped him lie down on his bed and lit the fire for warmth that they so desperately needed. When he heard her trudging about on the lower level, Toulouse stuck his head down from the human-size hole in the ceiling. Before he even opened his mouth to speak in that lisped voice of his, Satine called back, "Fetch the doctor quickly, Toulouse!" He did as he was told without question of an explanation and returned more quickly than she could give him credit for with the doctor that could be found on the first floor of the same building. "How lucky," she thought to herself that a lifesaver could be in the same building as they were when he was needed most. They would need all of the luck in France to save Christian that night. Satine told the doctor what had happened to Christian, at least everything that she had seen, and he began to undress the half-unconscious boy. "It hurts so bad," he cried as she took his outreached hand and kissed it passionately. "Don't worry, darling," she returned as she caressed his hand. Toulouse covered him with blankets up to his chest to keep him somewhat warm, and the doctor focused on a wound just above Christian's heart close to his shoulder blade. "I have to remove the bullet," the doctor said, "and he should be fine if Iget this fixed up right." Satine nodded hopefully and continued to try and comfort Christian any way possible. The night slowly wore on, and she remained by his side while the doctor worked silently. Tears rolled down his cheeks from the pain that had taken over his body. It even hurt to move his fingers on his left hand. Satine could hardly stand to see him like this, and tried her hardest to hold back the tears that burned her eyes uncontrollably. She had to be strong for him. At last, the doctor stood up and looked down at Satine. A small smile appeared on his lips, but she could see sadness in his aging eyes. "Will he be alright?" she asked a bit impatiently. "He is very sick, Miss Satine, and has a very high fever and hypothermia that he got from lying out in the rain for so long. He is very cold, and if he is not kept warm tonight, I-I wouldn't expect him t-to live through the rest of the week." Once again, Satine held back the burning tears that seemed to win the seemingly everlasting battle. Christian slept peacefully after he had been given a bottle of absinthe to help with the pain. His condition hadn't gotten any better, and talk of him being sick didn't make the future look too bright. The doctor explained to Satine that she must keep him as warm as possible and that he should get plenty of rest. He gave her medicine for him and explained everything again all before quietly closing and locking the door behind him.  
  
After unmoving from her spot in the middle of the room staring at the door for at least two minutes after the doctor had gone she quickly turned around to see a sleeping Christian. Pondering on what her next decision would be, her mind drifted back to the doctor saying that Christian had to stay warm. She recalled his exact words over and over before deciding to take action. She had hardly noticed that Toulouse had said "Take care of Cwistian" and "Goodbye Satine" almost an hour passed. Knowing that he was just on the next floor should she need him, she started to change into her night gown that she so rarely wore to sleep. She couldn't remember exactly how it got up to Christian's garret, but she didn't have the patience to retrace her actions and find out. All she was worried about was taking care of her poet. His breathing came in short, raspy intervals perhaps from the two ribs that he had broken or maybe just from sheer pain. She couldn't be sure until he opened his eyes and told her, so she blew out all of the candles that gave the room its pale and even romantic light except for the two that glowed on the bedside table. The fire still burned on yet not as brightly as it had when first lit, but it still gave off a setting sun's worth of warmth. It was enough to get by for the night, and Satine knew that she wouldn't let him out of her arms for a second. After making sure the quaint little room was secure, she cautiously laid down next to Christian who stirred as she inched her way closer to him. When he felt her arms wrap around his back, he opened his eyes to her uttermost surprise. "Satine? I'm so cold...It-it's so hard to breathe....W-what ha- " He was cut off as she gently put a finger to his lips successfully quieting him. Again, she almost lost control of her emotions when she felt him shaking against her. Living in a world that always seemed so cold, she realized that however chilled she had ever felt nothing could be as terrible as what Christian felt; he was truly freezing. Knowing that the less clothing they had on, the warmer they would be, she gently laid him on his back and started to unbutton his white shirt. When she had finished, she lifted him up so that she could take the shirt off, and when she was successful in doing so, she threw it onto the chair next to the bed which she had occupied almost the whole time the doctor was present. She then laid back down next to him letting him cuddle close to her for the warmth that he so desperately needed. He gently rested his head on her chest and whispered a muffled "I love you" before drifting back into a painful slumber. Now that he was fast asleep in her arms, she had time to think to herself. She first thought about how terrible she had hurt him when she was forced to tell him that their love wasn't real after all.. She had wounded his heart so deeply, and she wondered if he would ever fully recover from the pain she had caused as well as the pain that the God forsaken bullet had caused. She quieted her fearful thoughts and looked down at her love. He was sleeping more peacefully than before, and his breathing seemed to be almost normal again. She lovingly stroked his hair and realized that it really was as dark as a raven's wing. How wonderful life was now Christian was in her world and safely wrapped in her arms once again.  
  
To Be Continued.. 


	2. All the Luck in Paris

Hi everyone!! Thanks for the reviews, and I hope I can fit some of your ideas into the next few chapters. I like your idea Saz, and I'll try to put it in this chapter!! Sorry about the format of the 1st chapter, I wasn't quite sure about the site yet seeing as this is the first thing I've done. Sorry about the huge block of text lol. Just to set things straight for you people that think Christian is going to die, I wouldn't ever think of that happening, so don't worry lol. Keep the reviews coming, and I'll keep writing. Thanx!! ~Katie~  
Chapter 2- All the Luck in Paris  
  
As the dark of night turned into the light of dawn, the Duke was about to give up his unsuccessful search for HIS Sparkling Diamond. He was as fed up with the whole situation as he could possibly be and couldn't think of anywhere else where Satine could be-until that precise moment. He had been sitting inside Zidler's office with the old man himself as well as Warner. He sat silently with a blank expression on his rather strange features staring at the wall that was covered in Toulouse's illustrations of Satine in her many flashy and colorful costumes. "I wonder what will become of Christian's belongings up in that little garret of his," Zidler continued after thinking about what he had just thought out loud," Maybe that's where my little chickpea was always running off to after rehearsals." Suddenly, the Duke sprang out of his chair, and Zidler silently regretted what he had just said. Christian's garret was virtually the only place in Montmarte where the Duke had not yet searched every corner of. "Of course!" he thought, "Why didn't I think of it before?" Warner had been sitting quietly and rather impatiently in the corner of the small room fidgeting with the gun that had almost killed Christian the night before. More suddenly than he had sprung from his seat, the Duke grabbed the gun from his servant and stomped out of the office slamming the door behind him. Zidler quickly ran after him, now having some sympathy for Satine and her penniless writer. He caught up to the Duke and tried to bargain with him, "You should leave them alone. Didn't you hurt the boy enough?" He was pushed aside by the force of the Duke's determination and was left staring at him dumbfounded as he headed to where Christian and Satine slept peacefully, yet little did the lovers know that this peacefulness wouldn't last much longer.  
  
Toulouse sat hunched over on the rooftop drinking as he usually did every morning. He watched the passersby as they went about their morning affairs. He always had a hidden fascination with watching people, sometimes feeling a bit jealous of their movements as he considered his physical disadvantage. This morning he was distracted by something else. Though he kept a close watch on the people down below, his mind was occupied with the events of the night before. He wanted desperately to check on his injured friend but knew that Satine was caring for him at that very moment. Toulouse knew that Christian would recover, and past events showed proof that this certain knowledgeable dwarf was seldom wrong about the future. As this thought left his mind, he was distracted by a certain person down below that seemed to push his way through the moderately crowded street. He saw that the figure was carrying something, and could barely make out the shape of the object but quickly realized that it was a gun after seeing the mysterious yet familiar man load the weapon. Yes, this man was indeed familiar, almost too familiar for that matter. It was the person that everyone in the village of sin secretly despised, the man whose voice made everyone cringe, and the man who was on a deadly mission. Toulouse immediately knew exactly where the Duke was headed, and to his ultimate dismay, it was the worst place possible in his eyes. Toulouse hopped up from his perch and ran as fast as his unusually short legs would carry him to the apartment below where Christian and Satine slept peacefully. He would have done anything to make this peacefulness last forever, and he would do his best to achieve his goal.  
  
Satine was awakened by the sound of Christian coughing. It really was a terrible sound, she thought, and she would have done anything to stop it from reaching her ears. He was quieted, however, when she gently laid him down on his back and massaged his chest with her warm hands. Once his breathing was back to normal she brought her lips to his shoulder and kissed him lightly. She then realized that, despite the rising of the sun, the temperature had dropped dramatically, and Christian was already more chilled than necessary. She grabbed his shirt that had been placed on the chair beside the bed the night before and buttoned it up before softly kissing his lips. He stared up at her with loving eyes the as she dressed him warmly and snuggled as close to her as he could trying to regain the warmth he had lost from Satine not lying by his side any longer. Satine was relieved to realize that her love's condition had drastically improved since the night before, and when looking down at him she saw that he had drifted back to sleep. Without any words except a barely audible "I love you" she left the bed to dress for the day. As she finished fixing her hair she was jolted from her spot in front of the mirror when the door opened with a loud crack. Toulouse suddenly appeared out of breath and with fear in his eyes. "The Duke is coming for you," he said in a low and slightly shaky voice. Satine was frozen in fear. What else could he possibly want? He had already left Christian near death. Was it possible for him to ruin her life any more? When Toulouse explained that the Duke carried a gun she realized that the answer to that question was a dreadful yes. After a quick pause in voices, Toulouse said quietly, "Come up to my studio, and the two if you can hide in my attic until he leaves." Satine nodded hopefully and strode back over to the bed where Christian still slept. She sat down on the edge next to him, and whispered his name. He slowly opened his eyes trying to chase away the bright light that the large window allowed in the room. Mustering all of her fearlessness and hope together, Satine calmly explained what was happening to Christian. He nodded slowly after she asked if he was able to walk, and she helped him out of bed. She quickly grabbed his faded navy blue coat and wrapped it around his shoulders. She also took his hat from the rack and settled it atop his head incase a disguise was absolutely necessary.  
  
It took minutes just to help Christian up the stairs, and when finally in Toulouse's humble abode Satine and Christian were cramped into a small room above Toulouse's studio which was absentmindedly called an attic. They were told to remain as quiet as a mouse and nodded obediently as little children. After Toulouse had continued about his daily chores trying his best to not make anything seem obvious, Christian settled into Satine's embrace once again fearing his life. "Who called this a bloody attic? I can hardly breathe, and I was beginning to think that I was feeling a bit better." Satine giggled quietly and pushed a stray strand of near black hair from his eyes. She kissed his cheek and told him to save his voice, and he was soon asleep for the second time that morning. It definitely would take all the luck in Paris to win this battle, and when footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs to Toulouse's studio Satine felt as if they were losing.  
  
Still, To Be Continued. 


	3. Footsteps and Disbelief

Hi again! I'm really sorry it has taken me so long to update my story. I just got back from Florida for spring break, and I took advantage of my 22 hours in the car and wrote this on the way back, so please forgive me if it's not my best work. I'll try my best not to keep you waiting for chapter 4, but until then, here's chapter 3! Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 3- Footsteps and Disbelief  
  
Satine was glad that Christian had fallen asleep. He had been through enough frightful encounters for one night, and something told her that if he were to be tremendously startled for some reason it might be too much for his weak body to handle. As the footsteps on the lower level became more audible, Satine could feel her heart pounding in her fingertips. This was even too much for her to handle; Christian was definitely better off asleep. Silent prayers consumed her mind as Toulouse's door slammed open below and a new character bounded inside.  
  
Toulouse had been painting a picture of a dark and stormy night which somewhat had a resemblance to the events of the past night. He as well as the off-white canvas opposite his seat knew that this resemblance was intentional. "Things aren't always as they seem," he sighed as if speaking to his painting. He was quite depressed because of the recent occurrences and wanted desperately for his dear friends to survive these encounters with the man that both despised of. Toulouse was again whisked out of his emotion filled world when his door slammed open.  
  
"Where are they?" demanded the despised man himself. "Oh, eh, dear duke, who exactly might you be referring to?" Toulouse cunningly stammered in return. "You know all too well who you drunken dwarf!" "I'm terribly sorry, sir, but perhaps you might seek monsieur Zidler for assistance." "I refuse to leave, and you will tell me where Satine and her penniless poet have run off to!" After making a quick decision on how to answer, Toulouse took a deep breath and continued the slightly heated conversation while trying to make his response seem believable. "Alright, alright. I regret to inform you that young Chwistian passed away early this morning. The shot just barely missed his heart, and we thought he would live, but he had been hit and beaten quite a bit as well, and he just didn't have the strength to." Toulouse trailed off when he saw a devilish smile appear on the duke's strangely shaped mouth. "That's wonderful news, and would you happen to have an idea of the whereabouts of MY Sparkling Diamond?" It took Toulouse a bit of time to recover from the words that had just come out of the duke's mouth. "Er, ahem, Miss Satine um. she passed away shortly after Chwistian. The whole situation was just too much for her, and, well, she er. took her own life out of grief. Terrible really. she never seemed like the type to do such a thing, but she loved Chwistian so dearly. I am truly sorry, sir," Toulouse lied while acting like he was trying to hold back fake tears. The duke was speechless, and after searching for words simply said," you're absolutely sure?" "Yes sir," he said in a mock sad voice and paused for a moment," and I suggest you go back to your old life and find someone new, if I may inquire such a request." "Yes, I suppose I should," the duke replied rather bitterly," but at least one good thing came out of this." "And, um, what would that be, sir?" Toulouse questioned. "That stupid boy is dead, of course, and the world is a much better place without him, such a pity." he laughed sarcastically to himself as he absentmindedly walked to the door and shut it behind him.  
  
Toulouse stood silently with wide eyes until he could no longer hear footsteps down the hall. 'How incredibly easy it is to fool a stupid bugger like him,' he thought to himself as he ran over to the attic door and opened it as quietly as possible. He still did not feel completely sure that the duke had actually believed him, taken his advice, and left Montmarte for good. Once two peacefully sleeping figures were in view, he sighed happily and tried to rouse Satine from sleep by gently tapping her shoulder. She opened her eyes and was completely awake when she saw a smile on her friend's face. "What happened?" she asked groggily while tightening her grip around Christian. "It's a very long and interesting story, but I guess I should get started, yes?" Toulouse questioned while chuckling a bit. "Yes, please, Toulouse! Are we safe now?" Satine asked rather eagerly. Toulouse laughed," Yes, I think you and Christian will be quite safe for now." As Toulouse started his story, he helped Satine carry a still sleeping Christian over to the couch where he could rest comfortably. Satine was in awe as Toulouse told her every detail of his conversation with the duke, and as he finished with the story, Satine silently thanked God for giving Christian and her all the luck in Paris for just those few unpredictable moments, yet because of this they would finally be safe. As this thought left her mind, Christian opened his eyes slowly, and as if he had read her mind, he whispered, "Paris paid off." être continué 


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